The Devil Inside, page 20
She chewed on her lip. ‘Maybe …’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll find them. One of the cleaners might have picked them up and put them somewhere.’
‘The cleaners were here?’
‘I assume so. They were due yesterday afternoon—they probably came when we were in the storeroom.’
She sighed. ‘Or maybe I just dreamed doing them.’ She frowned deeply as she stared out at the view. ‘My dreams can be so real.’ She shook her head again. ‘I’m just being stupid.’
‘Not stupid. Yesterday was a tumultuous day. It’s no wonder your thoughts are a bit muddled.’
‘Yes. That’s probably what it is.’
Arwen started fussing and Phil turned. ‘That’s her hungry cry.’
‘Isn’t she early?’
‘Yep. But Jerry said she’s growing and we might need to up the amount we’re feeding her during the day to encourage her to sleep better at night anyway. Might as well start now. Do you want to help?’
‘Sure.’
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Bev called out as she came in the front door. ‘Phil, aren’t you supposed to be at your meeting with the band?’
He glanced at Mel. ‘Mel and I were about to feed Arwen.’
‘I can take care of that. You go, or the boys will start chomping at the bit.’ She scooped Arwen up, handed her to Mel, then went to heat up a bottle.
‘You sure?’ he asked Mel quietly.
She smiled, nodded. ‘We’ll be fine. Go to your meeting.’
Tension wound up his spine and gripped the base of his skull as he headed to the door. A sickening throb of pain started behind his eyes as he walked slowly through the hall that joined the two buildings.
Why hadn’t he taken the bull by the horns and had a private word with Lexi before now? She’d have some excellent session drummers they could use to finish off the bits of the album he hadn’t put down yet. Not to mention, he’d hoped to get her on his side first before dropping the news that he wasn’t in a place to finish the album with Dae and Craig. She’d understand his need to be with Mel right now better than anyone. She’d had a like experience with her twin, Cat, when she’d woken from her coma. The lads would accept his decision better if Lexi was with him.
But his chance to talk to her was gone. He was just going to have to wing it without her pre-arranged support.
He let himself into the studio.
Lexi and his mates weren’t on the couches in the break area. They must still be jamming.
He looked towards the stairs.
Damn it.
He took a steadying breath and trudged up the stairs, hands shoved into his pockets, rehearsing in his head what to say.
Best just to tell them outright that he wasn’t ready to start back.
He breasted the stairs and looked into the room beyond. Dae had the mic stand in his hand, his guitar strung over his shoulder. Craig was behind his keyboard. Laughter filled the air. So welcoming, so familiar. And yet …
Phil’s gaze flickered to his drums. Away. Sweat prickled under his skin.
He opened the door and entered.
‘Ah, here he is. The king of beats. The prince of rhythm. Deigning to give us a piece of his time.’ Dae made a flourish on his guitar.
Phil rolled his eyes and snorted, but stayed where he was, studiously trying not to look at his kit. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late. Got held up with Mel.’
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yep. She’s just a bit overwhelmed by looking through all her parents’ stuff. Then we couldn’t find a painting and some sketches she said she’d worked on yesterday.’
‘That’s not the first thing that’s gone missing.’
‘No. But after looking for them, she admitted she might have dreamed doing them. I wouldn’t mind getting back to her quickly. She was a bit upset at the thought she couldn’t trust her own recollections.’ Not exactly true, but it sounded good. ‘Where’s Lexi?’
‘She got caught up too.’ Dae said as he put his bass down and picked up his Fender Stratocaster. ‘But we could have a quick jam until she gets here. It’s been a while.’
Dae strummed his guitar, a few slow, soft chords—something new and haunting. ‘Craig and I’ve been working on this but we’re not sure we’ve got the mood right. Putting some beats to it will help.’ He kept playing as he spoke, Craig joining in with keyboards, and a rhythm began to make itself known in the back of Phil’s mind. His heartbeat took up the sound, but then took over, speeding up—thump-thump-thump—ruining the soft susurration of brushes he instinctually knew was needed.
His fingers tingled. Part of him wanted to play, to fill in what was lacking, but the very thought made his heart beat louder and louder. The tingle in his fingers ran up his arm. Became a painful, pricking zap.
He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He backed up a couple of steps, swallowing hard. ‘That sounds great but … um … I should …’ he gestured to the door. ‘Call me when Lexi gets here.’
He turned to leave but Craig stopped him. ‘Stay, mate. Play. It’s been so long since we played together.’
‘We played together at the charity gig. The night Arwen was born.’
‘That was almost two months ago, mate.’
Was it? ‘I … I don’t have time to play.’
‘Why not?’
‘Mel.’ He waved back towards the Barn House. ‘I promised I’d be back soon. She needs me. And Arwen. They both need me.’ Hell, did that sound as stupid to them as it did to him?
‘Isn’t Bev with them?’
‘What?’ He jerked at Dae’s question.
The key changed on the guitar and Dae nodded, smiling as Craig matched him with a rising chord. ‘You don’t need to get back to Mel and Arwen right away because Bev is there, isn’t she?’
‘Yes.’ Phil tried desperately to concentrate on the conversation, not on the tune that pulled at him, calling to him to add his beats. Beats he could no longer play without vomiting.
‘That progression is really good, Dae,’ Craig said as he played along.
‘You like it? I thought of it last night when Lexi and I were having a cuppa before going to bed.’
‘Who knew having a cuppa with your missus would be so inspirational.’
‘I don’t think it was the cuppa.’
‘La-la-la.’ Craig made a face and a chopping move with one hand as his other picked out a melody in the chords Dae played. ‘I don’t need to hear about your kinky domestic bliss situation with Lexi. She’s like my little sister. Come on, Phil. Come and give us some beats.’
Phil wanted to laugh at the banter, to join in, to give Dae some shit—their way of showing how happy they were for him. But the scraping was now starting to shudder through his bones, the thumping in his chest almost painful. Sweat dripped down his back. ‘Bev can’t stay all morning. She has things to do.’ He edged a step back. ‘Besides, Mel is feeding Arwen for the first time. I really don’t want to miss out on that.’
The keyboard tinkled to a stop, the hum of notes on the guitar falling silent as both men looked up at him.
‘You okay, man?’
Phil shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’
Dae slung the guitar over his head and put it on the stand. ‘You don’t look okay. Perhaps you should sit down.’
‘I’m fine. Just tired. And want to get back to Mel.’ He waved his hand at the room, at the instruments. His heart thudded hard and fast in his chest, as his gaze ran over his kit. A kit that had once filled him with so much joy to sit behind, but now …
He’d been sitting at his kit, losing himself to the beats when the police constable walked in with Bev to tell him about the accident. He’d been sitting at that kit laughing and feeling like a king while Mel had got pre-eclampsia and almost died.
Hell, he was going to be sick. ‘This will have to wait until later,’ he gasped, swallowing down the bile. ‘Let me know when Lexi is ready, okay? There’s something … I need to … just give me a call when she’s here.’ He turned, shoving the door open so hard, it slammed against the wall.
‘Phil.’
‘What the hell, man?’
He didn’t stop, just ran down the stairs.
Footsteps thumped behind him. Shit. They were following him?
‘Phil. Wait.’
A hand on his shoulder had him jerking to a stop.
Fuck. He wanted to scream, but clamped his mouth around the sound, letting it vibrate inside.
He turned slowly.
‘What’s up, mate?’ Craig asked, standing just behind Dae, his face creased in lines of worry and confusion. ‘And don’t tell us it’s nothing. You’re as white as a sheet and dripping sweat.’
‘Craig, maybe this isn’t the best time,’ Dae said, backing up.
‘When is the best time? We can’t let him run off when he looks like he’s going to pass out.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘In fact, every time I’ve suggested jamming you’ve acted all jittery and gone pale and shit. What’s going on, Phil? What aren’t you telling us? Are you … are you thinking of leaving the band?’
‘What?’ Dae said. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Craig. Phil never said anything of the sort. Did you, Phil? You’re not thinking of leaving the band. You wouldn’t do that to us.’
Phil couldn’t say the words, couldn’t deny them. His stomach clenched; prickles chased over his skin. His mates’ faces wavered in and out, in and out, their voices as they spoke loud then soft then wavering like coming from under water. He tried to take a deep breath but could only gasp. And gasp. Air that did nothing. Air that was an ice pick in his throat. His chest.
His heart beat faster than it had upstairs.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe.
‘Phil?’
‘You okay, mate?’
The world narrowed, like a camera lens going from wide to close up, except the edges had fogged and dimmed and the centre wasn’t even in focus.
‘Sit down.’
‘He looks like he’s going to hurl.’
‘Not. Going. To. Hurl,’ he said. At least he thought he said it. He didn’t feel nauseous at all now. Just strange and weak and like he was so small in his head but at the same time, not in it at all.
He knew this feeling. He knew it and it wasn’t good.
‘I think he’s having a panic attack.’
‘He’s not had one of those for years.’
Yet he had. The last time he’d tried sitting at his kit. His heart slammed in his chest and the world pitched and slid sideways.
‘Whoa. We’ve got you.’
Arms clamped around his shoulders and his middle, holding him up. He tried to stand upright, tried not to need their help, but couldn’t seem to find his legs.
‘I’ll call up to the house. Maybe Jerry’s back.’
‘Let’s get him to the lounge first.’
The movement made the swirling and pitching worse. Ah hell. The nausea was back. He was going to hurl. But then he was lying on a soft surface, head cushioned on something squishy. The need to hurl went away. But now he was open. Too exposed. He rolled over, curling onto his side and into himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and tucking his head into his chest. It felt better, more secure. He still couldn’t catch his breath, but maybe, if he stayed like this, he might not fly apart at the seams.
‘Nobody’s up at the house.’
‘Go get Bev. She’ll know what to do.’
‘Don’t … tell … Mel,’ he managed to whisper then blacked out.
***
Melissa watched Phil go, trying not to call him back, tingling all over. She didn’t want him to go. They had things to talk about—last night with her sharing his bed being a big elephant in the room she really didn’t want to ignore. Something had changed, despite the fact she’d barely remembered anything about their life together, and she wanted to explore it.
She also wanted him to be the one to help her give her first bottle to Arwen. But that was just her being selfish. He and his band mates were here for a purpose and that purpose had been put off long enough for her.
As Bev got the bottle ready, Arwen’s cries became full blown wails. But instead of wanting to put her down and run away, Melissa rocked and whispered to her baby. Arwen in turn kept turning her head into Melissa’s breasts, her little mouth opening and closing. The tingling had centred in her chest and became almost uncomfortable.
‘She’s certainly ready for her feed,’ Bev said as she came over with the bottle.
‘She is.’ Melissa held her hand out then gasped as the tingling in her chest became a heated rush. ‘Oh.’ Arwen nuzzled harder, her fists flailing out of the blanket she was swaddled in.
‘Oh my.’
‘What? What’s wrong?’
Bev’s eyes widened and she chuckled, pointing at Melissa’s t-shirt. ‘I think she’s trying to get at your breast milk.’
‘My breast milk?’ Melissa looked down, noticing the wet patch widening on her t-shirt. What the hell? Wetness? Oh, holy crap. She was leaking. From her nipples. True to god wetness.
She was lactating?
Her arms went numb and she stood still, unable to move or do anything as Arwen nuzzled at her, wailing, trying to get to the nipple that dripped more and more of the wet stuff. Milk. Milk for Arwen.
‘Do you want to try to breastfeed her?’ Bev asked gently. ‘If not, maybe I should take her for now.’
Melissa’s arms curled around her baby. Had she wanted to do this? Yes. Yes, she had. She suddenly knew she’d longed to do this as the baby grew inside her. More than she’d ever imagined she would. ‘How do I do it?’
‘Let me show you. It’s pretty simple—just a matter of holding her right then letting her do the rest. Here, sit in this armchair.’ She settled in the armchair at Bev’s instruction. ‘Lift your top away. Oh dear, you really need to wear a maternity bra. You bought some before the accident. We can look later. They’ll be much more comfortable.’ Mel nodded, understanding now why her bra had felt more and more uncomfortable the last few days. She suddenly wanted to get the bloody thing off. Her rock-hard breasts were spilling out of the thing.
‘And we’ll need to get some breast pads to help with the leakage. It looks like you’re going to have more than enough milk for your baby.’
Mel nodded dumbly.
Bev put a pillow in her lap. ‘It will be more comfortable resting your arm on this so you’re not holding her full weight for too long.’ Arwen let out a louder wail as they resettled her into place and Melissa pulled down the cup of her bra. Milky liquid immediately beaded at the tip of her nipple and began to drip down, soaking the already wet cup.
Arwen let out a louder, more insistent wail.
Melissa sighed heavily and stared down at the baby in her arms and the liquid dripping from breasts that were swollen and looking like they were getting larger with every passing second. ‘Okay. Let’s do this.’ She sounded far more confident than she felt.
She cupped Arwen’s head and held the baby’s face close to her breast as Bev instructed but Arwen squirmed so much that her nose bumped across the swollen, wet nipple and a little bit of milk spurted in her face. She whimpered and made a bleating kind of sound. ‘That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it, baby?’
‘Try again. She’ll get the hang quickly.’
It took three attempts but then suddenly, Arwen’s little mouth latched on and she began to suck. Hard.
‘Oh.’ The most intense feeling of completeness rushed through Melissa as the milk let down and fed the baby. Her baby. ‘Oh.’ The prickling, urging intensity didn’t abate, but settled into something steadier, something she could control. The baby lifted tiny hands to Melissa’s breast as if trying to hold on. It was the dearest thing she’d ever seen, those little hands gripping her breast as the sweet little mouth widened on her nipple, taking the whole thing inside, and sucked the liquid into her empty tummy.
She couldn’t help but feel triumphant. She was breastfeeding. Why the hell had she been so afraid of this? It was amazing. Superhuman. She was superhuman. If she could do this, she could do anything right? Like find out what secrets her parents were hiding. Not let that unnamed terror get to her and play with her mind so she thought she was crazy. She wasn’t crazy. She was just dealing with a lot. But there was no need to be terrified of that. Just like there was no reason to be terrified of this. She was doing it. Truly doing it. And doing it like nobody else could.
Fear couldn’t touch her anymore. She was untouchable. Steel.
Arwen began to choke and cough, and milk—so much milk—began to pour out her mouth. Oh shit. She was choking her daughter!
Melissa quickly sat back, pulling the nipple out of the baby’s mouth with a jerk. A spurt of milk hit Arwen on the cheek. The baby began to scream again.
Oh god, what was wrong with her? She never cried and now she was blubbering as bad as the baby because she was so crap at this and it was all wrong and what was she going to do?
She thought she had this? Thought she was steel?
She wasn’t steel. She was aluminium. No, not even that. She was a tumbleweed.
‘Hey, what’s all the tears about?’
‘I’m … doing it … all wrong.’
Bev smiled and smoothed her hand over Melissa’s hair. ‘It’s okay. It’s not a disaster. It’s not uncommon for milk to come in so fast the baby chokes a little. All we need to do is express off a little to begin with to slow the flow.’
Melissa blinked at the older woman. ‘What?’
‘And if we adjust the position like so to slow the flow a little … see, she’s fine now, aren’t you, sweetness?’
Bev had repositioned both her and Arwen and in a no-nonsense way that bypassed embarrassment, helped Arwen latch on, Melissa’s hand at the back of Arwen’s precious little head, leaning back a little. The mewling sound of pleasure Arwen made brought a choking laugh to Melissa’s lips. Joy filled her as the baby sucked and swallowed and settled against her stomach, in her arms. ‘Oh,’ she said again. She wanted to smile at Bev, to thank her, but all she could do was look at the baby in her arms, latched to her breast, taking her fill.
‘Feels better, right?’
She nodded, unable to take her eyes from the feeding baby. ‘How did this happen?’
